


Such Small Hands

by franticatlantic



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franticatlantic/pseuds/franticatlantic
Summary: Josh and Tyler join a different sort of mile high club.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [someone](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/post/153634764458/wow-i-fucking-adore-your-writing-if-youre-taking) wanted ty sick on a plane with josh comforting him. i hope you like it!

Tyler takes a Benadryl before the flight even though he knows it won’t do anything.

It’s a bright pink capsule that washes down easily with a bit of water from the tap, cupped in his palm. He stands over the sink waiting for Josh to finish up, letting the other men bustle in and out around him. Every so often the lady on the PA will announce an arrival or boarding.

Josh joins him from the urinal, claps a hand on Tyler’s shoulder before he’s washed his hands. “You oaky?”

Tyler doesn’t mind because he has bigger fish to fry. Also because he’s touched Josh’s dick too many times to count and a little penis sweat doesn’t bother him anymore. If it ever did. He nods. “I’m good.”

“It’ll work this time,” Josh says over the rush of water from his sink.

The PA dings again. “Now boarding: flight 429 to Moscow from gate B 21.”

Tyler rolls his eyes skyward, to where the fluorescents are blinking in their little glass homes. He exhales tremulously and Josh doesn’t bother to dry his hands before he’s settling both on Tyler’s shoulders and steering him out to the waiting area.

Where they meet Mark and Daniel and line up to board. They’re first class so they’re admitted before everyone but the handicapped passengers. Josh grabs Tyler’s bag from him and puts it in the overhead compartment.

“Thanks,” he mutters, and Josh ushers him into their row with a hand at the small of his back.

As he sits he tries not to notice the brown paper bag stuffed into the back of the chair in front of him. Even though he knows that’s stupid since he’ll be needing it soon. What he tries to focus on instead, though, is Josh, who lets him wrap both arms around his bicep and lean his head on his shoulder. Josh curls his forearm up to pat Tyler’s hand and then brush through his hair.

He knew in the beginning that if they made it this big flying would be a thing. A lot of flying would be a thing. And it is. But he has yet to find a medication that completely alleviates the motion sickness he first felt when he was seven years old on his way to Disney World with his family for the first time. He’s not even a nervous flyer - being on a plane doesn’t scare him the way it does people who are afraid of flights or just flying in general.

It’s just that damn motion sickness. Which he is afraid of. Because he hates being sick.

Josh, who knows this, offers to pull up a movie on his iPad, asks Tyler if he wants to listen to some music, pulls him even closer with an arm hooked around his neck. The stewardesses give the safety lesson Tyler’s heard dozens of times before and then point out the barf bags, _should anyone need them_. They’re thinking no one will because motion sickness from plane rides isn’t common.

Tyler’s sure they have people freaking out on planes all the time, nervous flyers who claim they’re all going to die of a head-on, mid-air collision or the pressure in the cabin dropping. It’s not all that often that someone heaves up their breakfast mid-flight, though, he’s sure.

The rumble of the engines makes him whimper, a sound he thinks is low enough that no one will be able to hear. But Josh hears and puts a hand on Tyler’s back, rubbing gently.

Takeoff isn’t the worst, but he still doesn’t relish that drop, the way the Earth falls away beneath them, leaving only empty air underneath. His stomach rolls and he rocks forward, scrabbling for the bag, which he rips open and breathes into, hunched over in his seat.

Josh is still rubbing his back when the stewardess comes by with a cart. “Hi, I’ll take a lemonade. And can I get a water for him?”

“Is he okay?” The woman asks warily, and Tyler sees Josh nod out of his peripheral.

“He’ll be fine, just a little motion sickness.” The stewardess smiles awkwardly and then trots along and Josh turns to Tyler. “Here, bud. Drink up.”

“Thanks,” Tyler says, both for the water and for Josh keeping this on the down low. It’s embarrassing, okay? He’s embarrassed by it. The cup of water is cool when he takes it, his fingers making fades in the condensation. It goes down easy, chilling his throat and the pit of his stomach. Some spills out of the corner of his mouth and Josh wipes it away with a chuckle. The sound is warm and inviting and Tyler smiles, holding both the cup of water and the barf bag down by his knees. “Y’know, I feel a little better than other times.”

“That’s great! I told you it’d work this time. Would I lie to you?”

Josh wouldn’t ever lie to Tyler. But he might fib because after Tyler unhooks the tray from the back of the seat in front of him and sets his water and the bag on it in order to lean over and watch a movie with Josh, that’s when the turbulence starts.

A shudder rocks the plane from side to side and Josh’s hand goes immediately to Tyler’s thigh under the iPad. And Tyler feels his stomach lurch. He turns his face into Josh’s neck. “Josh…”

“You okay?” Josh’s hand squeezes Tyler’s leg.

Another tremor wracks the plane and Tyler’s seat shakes. He has just enough time to jolt forward, grab the barf bag, and open it under him before he retches into it.

“Shh, Ty. It’s okay.” Josh rubs comforting circles on his back and Tyler is glad there are only two seats to a row on this airline. Although he can see the little girl in the seat ahead of him staring back through the crack between her seat and her mother’s.

Tyler throws up two more times before Josh glances out into the aisle and then leans back. “Ty. I have an idea.”

“Mm?” Is all Tyler can say, because he feels any more will make him puke again.

“I want you to go to the bathroom and wait for me. I’ll be in in 10 minutes.”

Tyler wants to ask if Josh has in mind what he thinks he has in mind, but talking is one giant no right now, so he just nods and unbuckles his belt, shimmies past Josh with the bag still clutched in hand in case he needs it.

The stewardess at the front of the plane sits reading an in-flight magazine and doesn’t pay even a lick of attention to Tyler as he enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. In the mirror he can see how pale he is, the white of his face verging on a sickly green color.

He throws up once more, in the toilet, and splashes water on his face from the sink while he waits for Josh. True to his word, ten minutes later there’s a knock at the door and Tyler unlocks it, sees past Josh that the stewardess is still reading her magazine.

Josh muscles him up against the sink and kisses him, even though Tyler knows he tastes like puke. He mewls and pushes Josh back just enough to breathe evenly again. He swallows against the acrid taste of vomit in his mouth. “You wanna fuck me?”

“No.” Josh shakes his head. “I just wanna hold you.”

Manhandling Tyler around, he presses them together chest to back and slips a hand beneath Tyler’s shirt, starts to rub low on his stomach. His other arm he winds around Tyler’s waist, kissing languidly behind Tyler’s ear. He hums something soft and slow and starts to sway them.

Tyler leans his head back and whimpers, hands locked on Josh’s arms as he feels his stomach uncoiling itself. “Feels good, Joshie.”

“I’m so glad, baby.”

But they can’t stay in the bathroom forever. It’s a 13 hour flight and someone else is bound to have to use the bathroom between now and Moscow.

So Josh leads Tyler back to their seats and has him take another Benadryl. This on top of the last one almost knocks him out and they take one more trip to the bathroom as they’re flying over the UK, Josh cradling Tyler back against him with a hand on his belly, before they land.

When they do, Josh has to practically carry Tyler to the hotel, where he guides him into their room and then starts lugging their bags inside.

“Hey,” Mark says, grinning cheekily as he helps Daniel with their bags. “I saw you guys on the plane. DIdn’t know you were interested in joining the Mile High Club.”

Josh blushes from his head to his toes. “We didn’t. I was just helping him out with his sickness.”

“Uhuuuuh,” Mark says skeptically, and he gives Josh a wink before heading into his room.

With a sigh, Josh sets Tyler’s suitcase in the front entryway and hears the door click shut softly behind him. In the room proper Tyler has collapsed on the bed, facedown on the covers. But Josh knows he’s still awake because he’s making tiny dissatisfied noises into the sheets.

“Mark thinks we had sex on the plane.”

Tyler groans and throws his head to the side. “A lot of people who saw us probably think we had sex. Do I care? No.” And he turns his head back into the bed and grumbles some more.

Josh joins him atop the covers, trailing a hand down the back of his arm. “I’m thinking we should join the Moscow High Club.”

Laughing, Tyler rolls to face him, still a bit green around the gills. “That was the dumbest pun ever. But I think we should, too…later. First I have to sleep this off.”

Later comes after a three hour nap that Josh wakes Tyler up from with a blowjob because he’s impatient.

And after that Tyler’s fit as a fiddle and ready for the show the following night. Until the next time he has to fly, of course.

But even then Josh will be there to make him feel all better.

**Author's Note:**

> i have [tumblr](http://vintagetyler.tumblr.com/).


End file.
